Possession
by leeexiij
Summary: When Isabella Reigns is abducted and taken to an underground bdsm club, she fears she will never reunite with her only remaining kin - her older brother Roman. What happens when a certain Dean Ambrose feels a bond towards the raven-haired beauty and decides to rescue her from an impending life of exploitation and exchange it for one full of love? Will the siblings ever reunite?
1. Chapter 1

Isabella hummed lightly to herself as she crossed the street. The sun was big and bright in the sky, and there was a slight breeze that accompanied the warmth that wrapped itself around her body like a blanket. It was such a nice day out that she didn't mind walking home. She sent a quick text to her brother Roman, letting him know that her ride had cancelled. Although her walk from school to home was less than a mile, Isabella knew her over-protective big brother would not approve of her trek alone, and with good reason. In surrounding towns, young women between the ages of 20-25 were being taken in broad daylight. No traces are left behind; no indicators to who was taking these girls or where they were taking them. The only remnants of these kidnappings were items dropped during the struggle. Isabella had been listening to all of the safety precautions enforced by Roman, her school, and the local authorities, but didn't necessarily take these directions seriously. She didn't believe that, in such a small town, someone could get snatched up in the light of day without there being any witnesses. Especially not on a day like this. It was too beautiful, too peaceful.

So, the young girl continued her walk at a leisurely pace. She had yet to receive any phone calls from Roman which indicated that he was currently in a business meeting and probably wouldn't get her message until later - by then she would already be home.

The brunette only had a quarter of a mile left of her journey when a feeling of paranoia set in. Her unhurried steps turned into long strides as she rushed to get home. The feeling in the pit of Isabella's stomach was nothing she had ever experienced before and it was unsettling. A few minutes passed and the feeling had only gotten stronger. As she went to turn onto her street, a black van with deeply tinted windows pulled up in front of her. The doors flew open and, before Isabella had the chance to react, two sets of hands grabbed her arms and legs and dragged her into the van. Isabella instinctively began yelling for help whilst clawing at everything in her path, but she was grabbed by the waist and throw backwards before she could even get to the door.

"I was hoping you would be more cooperative, love." One of the men told her. He had a quite noticeable British accent and dark brown hair. "Get me the duct tape and the handcuffs. This one is gonna be a fighter." He laughed alongside two other men while Isabella cowered in fear.

"No, don't touch me!" She screamed, kicking at the British man as he approached her with the items in hand. He simply laughed at her before placing a strip of the silver tape over her mouth, muffling her screams. Isabella continued to kick her legs as she was rolled over onto her stomach. Heaviness weighed down on her legs and she turned her head to see the British man straddling her lower half. He grabbed her wrists roughly, yanking them behind her back as she wiggled desperately beneath him and let out muffled protests. Tears trickled down her face as she heard the click of the cuffs enclosing around her wrists; the cool metal almost enough to send a chill down her spine.

She was helpless now - completely and entirely helpless.

Isabella was rolled back over and forcefully propped up against the side of the van, situated so she could clearly see her four captors. A bald man approached her and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb, sucking the droplet off his finger with a sadistic glint in his eyes. "You're a pretty lil thing, aren't ya?" He spoke with a broad Swedish accent, his native intonation thick. "It's going to be hard having to keep myself from getting a piece of you." He gripped the back of her thigh roughly, kneading his fingers into her round bottom. Isabella kicked and screamed against the duct tape as the Swede placed a nauseating kiss to her concealed lips.

"Alright, Cesaro, that's enough." A large, intimidating, bald man spoke. He was in a suit whereas the other men were dressed casually. "We were given specific rules not to touch her once she was apprehended so, unless you're going to buy her, keep your hands off."

Cesaro smirked challengingly at Kane, his hand still firmly gripping Isabella's ass. The small girl whimpered in pain when he roughly grabbed her by the hair and pulled her towards the other man. "C'mon big guy, don't act like you wouldn't love to have your way with her." The larger man rolled his eyes. Cesaro, unsatisfied with that response, tore the duct tape off Isabella's mouth in another attempt to pull a confession from Kane. "What about this mouth, Kane, huh?" He grabbed her jaw aggressively, pointing towards the girls mouth as he spoke.

Kane sighed. "What about it?"

"You're not even looking. You can't tell me you don't want this mouth wrapped around your little red monster." Cesaro laughed alongside the British man before looking back at Kane with a challenging look in his eyes. The look on the larger mans face showed displeasure. "Okay, okay... How about these though?"

Isabella squirmed and kicked at Cesaro as his hand gripped the hem of her tank top. "No, please don't! Please!" She begged with tears running down her face. He ignored her pleas and pulled the top up all the way up, grinning at the sight of her lacy pink bra. Closing her eyes as to not see the many sets of eyes trained on her chest, Isabella cried, letting out sobs as grimy hands cupped her breasts.

"Still don't wanna fuck her, Kane?" Cesaro asked. Isabella grit her teeth at the question, fearing the response.

"I'm not one for non-consensual sex."

The Swiss man scoffed. "Well I am. So," He turned to Isabella whose eyes were now open. "You ready for my cock, love?"

As he moved to grab her, a heavily tattooed arm wrapped around her bare waist and dragged her back and behind the body it belonged to. The man, too, was bald with bronzed skin and a broad chest. She had yet to see his face, but Isabella could already tell that he was handsome. "Enough! No one is putting their hands on her." His voice was deep and intimidating and Isabella didn't like how his arm was still draped across her waist, shielding her beside him. Not that she was going to say anything.

Cesaro glared at the man before slumping against the van door next to Kane. "Why the fuck do you care who puts their hands on her, Orton?"

It was silent for a minute as the question was being contemplated. Quietly and unconvincingly, the tattooed man said, "I don't." By the looks of it, no one believed Orton; including Isabella. She still didn't trust him, but there was most definitely a reason why he stopped Cesaro from raping her. But what?

After a few choice words were mumbled under Cesaro's breathe, he took up a conversation with the British guy while Kane feigned interest in something on his phone. Isabella's shirt was still bunched up beneath her armpits but, with her arms so tightly restrained behind her back, there was nothing she could do to cover herself up. She drew her knees up to her chest to conceal her exposed breasts. Silent tears trickled down her face as she thought about Roman. Would she ever see him again? Most, if not all, of the girls that were abducted by these men were never found - despite how hard detectives worked in searching for them. Isabella bit back as sob at the thought.

"How are you doing?" A hushed voice wondered. The voice was close, close enough to cause Isabella to cower in fear.

She looked up and saw the man that pulled her away from Cesaro. Orton, she recalls. She stared at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes and paled cheeks. The helpless look on Isabella's face said more to Orton than words ever could. "W-where are you taking m-me?" The brunette asked softly, her voice raspy from the excessive crying and screaming.

Orton sighed. He hated that question. Having to explain the horrors of the underground corporation that employed him - speaking aloud of what he partook in - was burdensome, but then seeing the look on the girls' face as he explained what the trade was and why they were taken was plain awful. He hated his "job", he really did, but once you're in a business like that - there is no going back.

"You're going to be sold... To a member of our club."

Isabella looked puzzled yet fearful at the same time. "For what?"

The tattooed man opened his mouth to speak when a heavily accented voice cut him off with a sadistically cheery ring to it. "As a permanent sex toy, my dear!" Barrett laughed almost maniacally at the look of pure horror he was given. He would never get sick of seeing the color completely drain from their faces. It was priceless every time.

Isabella had to force the bile in her stomach from heading north. Yes, she assumed that her kidnapping was no different than the others she heard on the news but it wasn't guaranteed. Either way her situation was far from good, but in any other kidnapping at least the victim had a chance of being rescued. In this particular case, the ratio of girls being kidnapped to girls being rescued was 12:0. With statistics like that, there was no hope in Isabella ever being reunited with her brother, instead she was damned to a life of exploitation and abuse.

The small girl let out a sob and hunched over, her grief stricken face hidden in her knees. The sound of an innocent young woman learning her fate had Orton's heart in a vice-like grip. Sure, he had felt sympathy for the other girls but not to this extent. He couldn't even look at her; his eyes found false interest in his shoes. It was nauseating how Cesaro and Barrett found enjoyment in the tears and whimpers and Orton hated them now more than ever.

"Please, I just wanna g-go home." Isabella begged, though the chances of her being released were slim to none. She sniffled. "If you w-want money, I can give it to y-you.." Her brother was by no means wealthy but they were more than comfortable. He owned a gym, wrestled professionally in his free time, and had a separate bank account with money his mother had left for them in her will. Besides, if it meant getting his precious baby sister back; Roman would do just about anything.

The men laughed. "Trust me, sweetheart, the money we're getting just for finding you is more than your family could ever pay." Barrett smirked at her arrogantly, moving over to tuck a strand of dampened hair behind her ear. He leaned forward so that his face was a mere few inches from hers. "And we'll be getting even more once you're sold as a fuck toy. Hell, I may even buy you myself." The British man made a grunting noise as he looked down at Isabella's visible chest before grabbing her by the hair and forcing his lips on hers. Isabella struggled against him, her body unintentionally rubbing against his. The button of her jeans popped open and Barrett's hand sneaked inside, his fingers brushing against the lacy fabric that they concealed.

Barrett swore loudly as the young girl sunk her teeth into his lip. He pulled back and wiped his mouth, growling at the blood that was on his hand. "You little bitch!" He yelled, back handing Isabella. The force of the blow sounded throughout the small van and was accompanied by the pained cries emitted by the small girl. As he was rearing to strike the brunette once more he was roughly pulled back by the collar of his shirt. A pair of venomous blue eyes stared down at him.

"I said enough. Leave her alone." Orton ordered. For some unknown reason, he was feeling more protective over Isabella than all the other girls. He shook it off as nothing more than is irritability towards the kidnappings finally boiling over. Barrett cursed him out before turning towards Cesaro - the two engaging in a business related discussion - but Orton could care less. He looked down at the tearful, scared girl. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly as to not draw any a attention towards them.

Isabella gazed up at him with fearful eyes; her face damp with recent tears, her lips trembling. Her stinging cheek sported a bright red mark that stood out prominently against her tanned skin. Orton moved closer to the girl, sitting in front of her criss-cross so he was more at her level. She was noticeably frightened, her demeanor showing all. "It's okay," He mumbled. "You don't need to be afraid... Not of me at least." Orton waited patiently for any type of a response. Ever so often he would glance over his shoulder to make sure their interaction wasn't being monitored by the others.

Isabella looked from Orton to her shoeless feet and back up again. Should she be afraid of him? In the almost hour that she had been in that van, the blue-eyed man had done nothing to make her fear him but that didn't change the fact that he was involved in her kidnapping. Isabella was conflicted and despite the voice in her head telling her to keep her mouth shut, she decided she had nothing else to lose by talking to this man. "Okay.." She whispered hoarsely. A friendly smile spread across Orton's face upon hearing the confirmation that Isabella did not fear him.

"Good." He said. "I'm Randy, Randy Orton. What's your name?"

The brunette swallowed thickly. "Isabella." Though she was still wary about Randy, there was something about the bald man that made get feel almost safe. It made her wonder why a man like him would kidnap young women for a living. "Isabella Reigns."

Orton's brows furrowed in thought. Her last name sounded familiar but he couldn't remember where he had heard it. He hummed. "Okay, Isabella, how old are you?"

Isabella bit her lip subconsciously, the momentary flickering of Randy's eyes down towards the plump flesh caught between teeth went unnoticed as the girl speculated telling the man more about herself. Since she had already told him her name, there was no loss in revealing her age as well. "Eighteen."

Randy bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from scowling. He sighed. Isabella was their youngest captive yet; they had no one under the age of twenty at the club. He knew that because of her age and astounding beauty, the members would scratch and claw to get their hands on such young, fresh meat. The realization made Orton feel that much more sorry for the brunette. As he opened his mouth to speak, his words were interrupted by Cesaro's voice announcing that they had arrived. "Time to get this show on the road, princess." The swiss man grinned. Randy took it upon himself to escort her inside, knowing very well that the others would be nothing but handsy with her.

"Please don't scream, okay? I don't want to have to put duct tape back over your mouth." Orton whispered. Isabella remained silent, frozen from the fear that coursed through her veins. " _Okay?"_ He pressed on, wanting to make sure the girl was as cooperative as possible. She looked up and nodded. Once the others cleared out Randy helped her out of the van. He noticed how he towered over her by almost a foot as they proceeded into what looked to be an abandoned building.

Three heavily armed guards stood in front of an entryway. These men looked like cold-blooded killers; holding their large guns that were pointed forward, ready to strike at any given moment. They nodded solemnly in acknowledgement at Kane and the others before stepping aside so Isabella could be ushered through the doors. She stood frozen in the doorway, trembling as she peered down a long corridor. Slow and sensual music played in the distance. Randy gave her a gentle nudge forward and proceeded to pull her along by the arm.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, they reached the end of the corridor, the music louder as it played from behind a concealed entryway. Barrett grabbed the handle and shoved the door open. Isabella's jaw dropped at the numerous scantily dressed or even naked women, many collared and leashed, performing various sexual acts on random men throughout the club. The young girl let out a broken sob as she was faced with what they were going to force her to do. Isabella felt a presence come up behind her so she looked up, her eyes meeting the sadistic eyes of Barrett. He smirked down at her.

"Welcome to the rest of your life, Kitten."


	2. Chapter 2

Isabella stood in shock; wide eyed at the sight in front of her. She blushed instinctively; the various sexual acts that were both consensual and non-consensual being performed before her very eyes were things the raven-haired girl never witnessed. Randy grabbed each of her arms as he assumed she would be less than cooperative with him after her first look at what was bound to come. He truly and sincerely wished she didn't have to be one of those girls that were strapped to a metal slab before everyone, nude, and whipped viciously on every part of her body as gather spectators watched with sadistic glee. Maybe one of the very rare few that actually treated their pets with love and affection would by her, Randy thought. At this point, though, he could only hope.

He ushered the ravenette throughout the main chamber of the club; scowling at the animalistic looks she was already receiving. Randy had yet to see one Dom that didn't have a reputation of unthinkable cruelty and sexual exploitation taking interest in Isabella and that made him almost consider buying the girl himself.

When they finally reached the employee entrance, the group waited as Kane unlocked the door and stepped aside to allow the others in with Randy and Isabella leading the way. The ravenette stared down at the dark maroon carpet, jumping as the door slammed shut behind them. It seemed as if the walls slowly crept in on them as they walked passed a series of dark mahogany doors labeled with shiny, gold nameplates. At the end of the corridor there was a large door that read in bold letters: "C.E.O."

"Time to meet the boss." Kane announced. He raised his fist and, with a heavy hand, left three solid knocks to the door. A muffled "come in" was heard momentarily after. Kane proceeded to usher the group inside before closing the door behind himself.

Sat behind a large mahogany desk was a middle-aged man with hair shaven down into a buzz cut. From what Isabella could see, the expensive suit the man was dressed in hid a quite muscular body. She watched as he stood up from his desk and straightened out his suit before sauntering over towards her. The young girl shrunk into Randy's side as the man looked her up and down.

"She's perfect." He said. "Seth will love her." At the revelation that she was to be bought by the slimy golden-boy, Randy went stiff.

"Wait, you're selling her to Rollins?"

Hunter nodded and tilted his head to the side. "What? He'll love her! She's exactly what he asked for. Now step aside gentlemen, I must inspect the girl and make sure that she is, indeed, everything Seth wanted." The men moved to the sides of the room. including a very reluctant Randy Orton, and took their seats in some rather expensive-looking leather chairs. They _were not_ about to miss this inspection. Randy on the other hand stood closer to the duo and watched protectively as Hunter removed his suit jacket and tie before grabbing the girl by the arm and pulling her close.

Immediately, the raven haired girl began to struggle with great effort. "Let go of me!" Isabella shouted, shoving at the larger mans chest. Her disobedience was rewarded with a harsh slap to the face - enough to momentarily distort her vision.

He looked her deep in the eyes. "Strip. I want you completely naked." Her horrified expression caused a large smile to spread across Hunter's face. "Now." He ordered, growing dangerously impatient. "NOW!"

The booming voice caused Isabella to jump and her eyes to tear up. She turned to Randy for help, his gaze moving from her to the floor. He couldn't stand the look in her icy blue eyes as they screamed for him to protect her from these men - the life she was to be subjected to - but there was nothing he could do. Isabella looked back to Hunter who was glaring at her with an irritated look on his face. The stinging of her cheek went ignored as shaky hands gripped at the hem of her tank top. She sniffled, her eyes glued to Hunter's shiny dress shoes as she hesitantly pulled the article up past her head. Hunter stared at her round, voluptuous chest with utter satisfaction. His eyes flickered to her shorts and he raised an eyebrow before glancing back up at the trembling ravenette. Taking a deep breathe, Isabella let the top fall to the floor before undoing her shorts. She prayed it would be the last article of clothing she would have to remove but a feeling in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. Looking up at Hunter, she discarded the shorts atop the wife-beater.

The large man circled Isabella like a hawk, looking her up and down with lust coated approval. After a few laps around the girl he stopped before her and with a lopsided smirk adorning his aged features he said, "Remove the rest - let us see what you have to offer."

"I don't want to..." Isabella cried. "Please don't make me." Being down to her bra and panties in front of five total strangers - kidnappers, even - was humiliating and degrading enough. She feared what was to happened after the last remaining articles of clothing were removed. In response she was back-handed, the amount of force packed into that blow enough to send the girl to the ground.

Hunter stood over her curled up body, apathetic towards the bright red mark she sported because of him. He crouched down and grabbed a handful of her long raven hair, pulling her on to her knees. He moved his free hand to her back and un-clasped her bra, tugging the undergarment off Isabella's body. She kicked and screamed as the bald man literally tore her panties off and chucked them to the side.

"Cesaro, Barrett - get her up." Hunter ordered.

The ravenette scrambled backwards as the two men started for her. Her back hit a wall sooner than she expected and before Isabella knew it, she was cornered with no means of escape. "No, please," She sobbed, curling up into a ball. Two sets of hands wrapped around each bicep and pulled her up off the ground and to the center of the room, back in front of Hunter. Despite the near bone-crushing grips the men had on her arms, the eighteen year old struggled to get their hands off her.

Hunter nodded with pursed lips and they released her before stepping back to their respective places. Isabella could still feel their fingers curled tightly around her thin arms and she knew hand-shaped bruises were to form in their wake. She fought the urge to step back as the older man took a menacing step forward, as a continuance of infraction on her part would only make her captors more angry, and instead let out a frightened whimper when he was finally standing before her. He gave her naked form a brief once over before beginning the so-called "examination" with the groping of her breasts. Isabella bit her lip to suppress a sob and winced as his rough hands squeezed and played with the flesh.

Hunter hummed to himself as his thumbs brushed over her pert nipples and Isabella swallowed, her firsts clenching into tight balls against her side. He looked up at her with a smirk adorning his aged features. "Nice tits. Now, bend over my desk and spread your legs."

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Once her examination was complete, Isabella was carded off to the room where she was to stay until the next auction took place three days from then. Randy took it upon himself to assign her a room, his choice being the one beside his, and even aided in getting her comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as one could be in her situation. He watched as she sat on the bed naked and cried into her hands from his spot in the far corner of the room. Randy wanted to keep his distance for the time being so he wouldn't risk scaring the girl into being afraid of him. That was the last thing he wanted.

"Is there anything you need?" Randy asked, slowly made his way around the bed and stopped to kneel before the weeping teen. Her head was tilted downward, her raven locks acting as a makeshift veil that covered her near flawless features.

"I.. I wanna g-go home. I want my br-brother." Isabella had never felt more violated in her entire life. She could still feel Hunter's grimy hands all over the most private parts of her body. It felt as if no amount of scalding hot water and rough scrubbing would rid the girl of the invisible remnants that were left on her body.

She thought of her brother - sweet and caring Roman. He worked so long and fought so hard so Isabella would live a good life, get a proper education, have food in her stomach; everything she could possibly want and more. Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing his smiling face ever again.

Randy cautiously sat beside her, silently cheering when she made no moves to get away from him. Actually, she seemed to visibly relax the closer he got. "I know you do.." He sighed. "I'm.. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you get to see your brother again."

Isabella looked up speechless, her blue eyes wide with surprise. "Really?" She asked, scanning his face for any signs of deceit only to find the sharp features to be adorned with authentic sincerity. Randy nodded and smiled warmly at the awe-struck girl, chuckling and wrapping his arms around her small frame as she all but leaped into his lap for a hug.

She felt so good pressed up against his chest like that and wrapped in his arms. He rested his chin on her head and breathed in the intoxicating, fruity aroma that came from her hair. She smelled _amazing_. Despite the two wanting to stay in each others arms forever, the warm embrace eventually came to an end. Isabella scooted back some and blushed, embarrassed by the fact that her heart was fluttering in her chest all because of Randy. She knew she shouldn't trust him, that he initially was on of her kidnappers, but there was something about him that spoke to her; told her that this man was not like the others she had encountered that day. His tutelage towards her the she was stowed away in that van proved his dependability. Maybe she was wrong but, in all actuality, what else did she have to lose?

"I'm sure you're exhausted you've... had a long day." Randy spoke, breaking the silence. He stood up and walked over towards a dresser, coming back with a white t-shirt and bed shorts. "Get changed, you'll be more comfortable in these." Isabella accepted the pajamas with a small smile on her face. Randy glanced at the bed almost longingly with his jaw clenched before looking back at the ravenette. "Well," He cleared his throat. "Goodnight." As Randy turned for the door joining their bedrooms, delicate fingers curled around his wrist.

"Wait!" Isabella exclaimed. Orton spun around to face her once again and allowed himself to be pulled towards the bed until he was standing before the teen; more so towered over. "Do you, um, do you mind sleeping in here tonight? I feel safer with you next to me." The pink blush that tinted Isabella's cheeks had a shit-eating grin spread across Randy's face. It was absolutely adorable. He nodded gently and pulled his hand back, turning to go into his bedroom to change into a pair of sweatpants. Isabella was already settled in and looking around the room with a solemn look on her face. As her head turned to take more of the area in, her eyes caught sight of Randy's sculpted, bare chest as he stood in the doorway. She was in awe - completely mesmerized by the definition of his pecs and the ridges of his abs - before swallowing thickly and glancing down at her lap with yet another blush warming her cheeks. Randy smirked to himself and got in on the opposite side of the bed, turning the bedside lamp off once he was situated. Isabella followed suit and curled up in the thick blanket, but yet she was still cold. She could feel Randy's body heat radiate off him and pull her in as he lay on his back until she was flush up against him with her hand on his chest and head above his heart. He tensed for a moment but quickly relaxed and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her body impossibly closer to his.

"Goodnight, Randy." Isabella whispered, her breathe tickling his chest. He let out a sigh of content and responded with a quiet 'night'. After a few minutes, as Randy was on the brink of sleep, he heard:

"Goodnight, Roman."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning rolled around and Randy woke to the sounds of the men he begrudgingly called "partners" arrive at the club. There were no regards for the sleeping girls that were locked up in small but luxurious bedrooms as the two accented men fooled around and talked obnoxiously loud in the hallway. Heavy footsteps stumbled down the corridor to their respective offices where hopefully the usual stacks of papers that needed to be worked through would keep them busy for the day. Randy was always Hunter's most respected worker and since he was born into the business, he wasn't hounded with too much paperwork like the others. Unless he was called on a mission, Orton was otherwise free to do as he pleased. It was a nice perk, you could say, especially since he wanted to spend the day getting to know Isabella.

 _Isabella._ He glanced down at the slumbering beauty. She looked so peaceful in that moment; the swelling around her eyes had gone down almost completely and her cheeks regained their color that held a rosy tint. His eyes trailed lower to her lips. So plump and pink. So inviting. Randy found himself mesmerized by them and wanting to connect them with his own. He knew it was absurd to allow himself to get attached to Isabella. The auction was in less than a week and if Randy knew Hunter, the CEO would make sure Seth was the highest bidder. Ever since that slimy little man joined The Authority, he kissed Hunter's ass all the way to the top and eventually had the older man wrapped around his finger. Everyone on the team respected Seth, liked him even, but not Randy. Randy had a preconceived opinion on Rollins prior to meeting him and to this day it proved to be true. He's seen how Seth treated the girls that were brought in and it was disgusting. He abused and defiled them in such a way that the girls lost their sense of identity and self-worth. Randy did not want that to Isabella's fate.

He sighed and looked at the clock. It was almost 10 which means one of the clubs servant girls would walk through the door any minute now with Isabella's breakfast. Randy knew that the girl wouldn't tell a soul about him being in bed with the ravenette, but he didn't feel like taking the risk - especially considering all that he was about to do. So, reluctantly, Randy slowly pulled his arm out from under the girl and pried himself from the warm confines of the bed. Isabella whimpered in her sleep before cradling Orton's pillow as if it was him. He smiled slightly before exiting through the conjoining door to his bedroom. He decided to mess up the bed and stage it to look like he slept there before getting in the shower and getting dressed. He wore a white button-up shirt with a few buttons undone, black slacks, and shiny black shoes. He rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, showing off his illustrious tattoos and finished the outfit off with a Rolex watch.

"Well," Randy sighed. "Time to knock off some of that paperwork."

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Isabella was awoken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. Her eyes peered open, not yet accustomed to the harsh sunlight, and jumped slightly at the sight of a young brunette woman in a risque maids outfit standing over her bed with a tray of food.

The woman smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Master Hunter had this made up specially for you." She gestured to the tray in her hands. The plate was stacked to the brim with pancakes, sausages, eggs, and toast along with a glass of orange juice.

"Specially for me? Why?" Isabella didn't understand why Hunter had a "special" breakfast made up for her. "Is this not what the other girls are served?"

Her question was rewarded with a soft chuckle. "Oh no, breakfast usually consists of a small bowl of cereal and a piece of toast." The brunette placed the tray in front of Isabella. "As for why you.. Well, lets just say I think Master Hunter likes you. Enjoy your breakfast." She smiled once more before turning to exit the room.

"Wait!" Isabella called. The girl either didn't hear or was deliberately ignoring her. Isabella stared at her food in wonder, already so confused.

She had to admit, everything looked wonderful. Isabella hadn't consumed a morsel of food since lunch yesterday and she was starving. But her hesitance was keeping her from taking a bite. _What if they put something in the food?_ She sat puzzled and stared at the plate, her mouth watering and stomach growling excessively.

"You can eat that." A voice assured.

Isabella looked up. "Randy..." She breathed. She had been so preoccupied with the food and why it was specially made for her that she hadn't even noticed Randy's absence.

"Go ahead, eat." He noticed the reluctance in her eyes as she looked back down at the meal. "It's safe, I promise." He sat on the edge of the bed, paperwork in hand, and watched as Isabella dipped her fork into the syrup covered pancakes and took a bite. He smiled and she blushed, taking a sip of the ice cold orange juice. "Hope you don't mind if I do some work in here." The sentence sounded more like a statement rather than a question but either way, Isabella was just happy she wouldn't have to be stuck in this room alone.

"Okay," She smiled.

Once she was finished eating, she placed the tray on the dresser and decided to check out her surroundings. There was a large dresser filled with lingerie-type clothing that left very little to the imagination, a mini closet filled with shoes, a bathroom, and some decorations. There wasn't much to her room and Isabella wondered if every girls room looked like hers or if this too was specially for her. She walked into the pristine bathroom and turned the shower on. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the warm spray, sighing contently. Isabella closed her eyes and pretended she was in her shower at home and that Roman was downstairs making her his world famous pancakes for breakfast. Her tears mixed with the water droplets as she let her fall forward into the spray, letting out a quiet sob.

But it was quiet enough. Randy looked up from his papers and at the bathroom door. He heard a cry, it was muffled by the sounds of the shower running but he heard it nonetheless. A frown tugged at his lips and he stood up, quietly making his way towards the bathroom. The cries got louder the closer he got and when Randy finally approached the door, they stopped. The shower was turned off seconds later and he could hear Isabella stepping out but something was keeping him at that door. He could still hear her sniffle here and there as she rummaged for her post-shower essentials. The door opened and Randy took a few steps back, not wanting to startle Isabella and come off creepy. Although he was a good five feet from the door, Isabella was still startled and would have slipped on a small puddle that formed at her feet if it wasn't for Randy jumping forward to catch her.

"You okay?" He asked, still holding her in his arms.

Isabella nodded and looked down in embarrassment, gasping when she noticed that her towel had loosened slightly. She was sure at Randy's height and angle that he could see right down her towel. He definitely noticed but kept his eyes forward out of respect for the ravenette. The two stepped apart and Randy returned to his work while Isabella retrieved the clothes she forgot. She rummaged through the dresser in search for articles of clothing that were the least revealing and ended up having to settle for a low-cut halter top and black spandex shorts. She looked at herself in the large bathroom mirror and frowned. The top showed way too much cleavage and with the shorts, half of her ass was hanging out; it was disgusting that _these_ were the least revealing.

She exited the bathroom once she was finished. "Randy?" She called out.

Orton looked up for the paperwork he was previously engrossed in and his eyes widened in shock. Isabella looked so... _sexy_. Randy cleared his throat and tried to compose himself. "Uh, yeah? What do you need?"

Isabella blushed and bashfully crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this outfit... too revealing? I mean, everything else is basically lingerie but even so, there isn't much left to the imagination." Well, its not like that's going to matter anymore now that she's indefinitely a sex slave. She slowly uncovered herself as Randy took in her outfit. From his point of view, he wasn't complaining. The clothing hugged Isabella's curves perfect and showed off her assets. But, he had to take her into the club for a routine "show off" and he was not looking forward to their clients' response to her risque outfit.

"Um," Randy licked his suddenly dry lips. "It's definitely not modest.." Isabella couldn't help but let out a giggle and that caused a smile to spread across Orton's face. She nodded in agreement and sat down on the bed beside him. "I have to bring you into the club soon." He said.

"What do you mean?" Isabella asked, a suddenly fearful look on her face.

Randy sighed. "Well, believe it or not, clients start arriving at around 10, and whenever a new girl gets brought in one of us has to bring her around the club to meet some potential buyers." This was a factual statement, just not in Isabella's case. Her "potential buyer" was already chosen, therefore Randy didn't need to escort her around the club. He just hoped, as a last ditch effort, that one of the very few humane Doms would be there so Randy could make some type of deal with them. Anything to keep Isabella from going home with Rollins. He noticed that the aforementioned girl grew silent, her knees suddenly hugged to her chest.

"Basically advertising the merchandise." She concluded, laughing dryly. It was clear the ravenette was fighting back tears. Isabella didn't think she would ever get used to no longer being treated as a human but as a fuck toy.

The two sat in silence for a while; Isabella sitting with slumped shoulders, staring dejectedly at her hands and Randy racking his brain for a better idea than the one he originally conjured up. He needed a stronger plan than to just bring Isabella around the club and hope for the best because what if no suitable men were there? Then what? Randy needed someone in mind beforehand, someone that could be trusted to take proper care of the eighteen year old.

But who?

And then a light bulb went off in Randy's head. He stood up from the bed and pulled out his phone, quickly excusing himself to his own bedroom so he could make the call in total privacy.

He knew just the person.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Ambrose groaned into his pillow has his phone rang obnoxiously on the bedside table. It was nearing noon and usually he would have been up by now but he couldn't be bothered. His roommate, Phil Brooks, dragged him to some underground bdsm club in hopes he would find himself a sub.

He didn't.

The rest of Dean's night was spent sitting by the bar drinking shot after shot while he inspected the women being auctioned off. None of them were right for him. He tried to explain this to Phil and his sub, Aj, but they were adamant that he moved on. Three years just wasn't enough time; Ambrose didn't know if there ever would be. He was borderline in love with his last sub, Renee, and thought she felt the same when one day a fucking swat team broke his door down and arrested him. As Dean was being escorted out of his house he saw Renee wrapped in an officer's arms with fake tears streaming down her face. When their eyes met, she smirked. Apparently while he was sleeping she called the police and told them everything, obviously leaving out the part that they were in love and everything sexual between the two was completely consensual. Renee said Dean beat her, raped her, threatened her life, and her family's, and was the complete opposite of how he really was. She cried on the stand then smiled when Ambrose was sentenced to life in prison while her "bravery" was rewarded with a quarter of a million dollars. But, thanks to a corrupted legal system and a heavy bribe, Dean managed to get out of prison after only three years. He vowed from that day fourth to never love another slave, or any woman for that matter, again.

He put the phone to his ear, not bothering to check the receiver. "What," A laugh emitted from the other line and Dean sat up, confused as to why this person was phoning him out of the blue. "Why are you calling me, Orton?"

"Well, I need you to come to the club in an hour, we have some things to discuss." Randy said in a suddenly serious voice.

Dean shook his head despite the other man not being able to see him. "I was there last night, why didn't you talk to me then?"

Randy sighed. "There's a girl,"

"I've seen all of your girls already, Orton, none of them interested me. Besides, I'm not in the market for a sub. I don't think I'll ever be again." Dean laughed dryly.

"It's be three years, Ambrose! Three years! Don't let what Renee did to you keep you from being happy." Randy paused, deciding to leave what happened where it belonged - the past. He knew that if he delved too deep into the topic that any chance of Ambrose being cooperative and agreeing to meet Randy at the club would diminish. "Just, listen," He said. "You owe me this. I got you out of prison, I got you the plea deal. Just do me this one favor." Randy was greeted by heavy silence and for a moment he thought Dean was going to hang up on him.

"Fine," Ambrose sighed. "I'll be there in an hour."

Randy grinned and thanked the man who muttered incoherently in response before hanging up. He needed to go tell Isabella that she would be safe and if Dean treated her wrong, Orton would kill him himself. Hopefully that won't happen. _Hopefully_.


	4. Chapter 4

**NSFW! NSFW! pt. 2 coming soon xo**

Dean Ambrose muttered a string of curse words towards Randy as he begrudgingly hauled himself out of bed, stomping towards the bathroom gruffly. This was a waste of time. What made Orton think Dean would take interest in this girl? He had met hundreds of subs from the club and not one had caught his attention - he was picky, you could say. But it wasn't because of what happened with Renee; not entirely, at least. He knew the qualities he looked for in a sub and so far none of the girls fit the bill. Renee did, but..

The dirty-blonde shook his head. Now was not the time to think about her and there would never be one. He just had to focus on getting ready and finding some aspirin for this killer headache that pounded against his skull. The shower significantly helped in curing his hangover, but if he was going to be in a very crowded building with flashing lights and brain-rattling music, he needed all the help he could get. Once all of his tasks were completed, Dean exited his depressingly empty house and started the engine of his sleek, black escalade before speeding off to the club.

He finally arrived after roughly 20 minutes and parked behind the secluded building. He could hear the music booming from inside as he rounded the club to the front door. He swiped his membership card and upon hearing the click of the door unlocking, made his way inside. Dean walked down the long, dimly lit corridor, the music getting louder with every step he took. Pushing through the velvet curtain that concealed the various acts of BDSM, Dean made a beeline for the bar. His baby blue eyes were cast downwards as he swirled the nursed whiskey around the glass. Noon was probably too early to start drinking, and arguably so, but Dean needed a kick in order to be at least halfway decent, seeing as he didn't want to be there in the first place.

A figure sat beside him at the bar and Dean glanced at them through his peripheral vision. He recognized those tattoos; _Orton_. "Y'know, it's not healthy to be drinking this early, Ambrose."

His eyes remained glued to his drink. "Listen, I don't need another mom. Had one, she sucked. Now," Dean pushed back slightly, finally meeting Orton's eyes. "Where's this girl you were so eager for me to meet that you called me at 11 o'clock in the fucking morning?"

Orton chuckled and patted the brunette mans shoulder. "Follow me; she's waiting in my office." The two stood and pushed their way through the crowd.

"Any reason why you couldn't bring her to me?"

The tattooed mans steps faltered and he sighed, "I'll explain everything once we're in my office and out of sight." He increased the pace, wanting to get out from under the watchful eyes of many of the clubs employees and to the safety of his office.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he smirked nonetheless. It was clear that Hunter nor any of his other goons knew that Randy called him in to see this girl. There was an element of danger now and he liked it. "Well," He sighed with a mischievous grin stretched across his face. "this should be interesting."

* * *

Isabella jumped at the sound of keys unlocking the office door. He had promised that he was the only person that could gain access to the room, and she believed him, but his reassurance still wasn't enough to eradicate her fears. The ravenette stared nervously from her spot on the couch as the knob was turned and the door was pushed open. She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding upon seeing Randy in the doorway. He entered the room and motioned for Isabella to come to him. She stood and obediently walked over to his side. A rugged-looking man entered the room after him, standing directly across from the young girl, staring at her expressionlessly as Randy shut and locked the door.

Once he was finished he returned to his previous spot. "Isabella, this is Dean Ambrose. Dean, this is Isabella Reigns." There was a thick silence between the two and for a few minutes, no one said anything. Orton was beginning to worry that Ambrose wasn't interested in her when an almost sadistic smirk crept onto his face.

"Kneel in the middle of the room. Now." He ordered, his eyes locked on Isabella's. She looked mildly shocked, her lips parted some, and looked to Randy for assistance. "Nuh-uh," Dean tisked, grabbing her chin none too gently to redirect her focus back to him. "He doesn't tell you what to do, I do. When I order you to do something, you do it right away. Got it?" Another wave of silence washed over the room. Ambrose raised his eyebrows expectedly, nearly closing the gap between the two. "I said, got it?"

Isabella was startled and frightened but also... turned on. There was an unfamiliar tingle in her lower regions and she nodded. "Yes s-sir." Moving quickly to the middle of Orton's office, Isabella kneeled and placed her hands on her lap, staring forward as she awaited - and anticipated - further instructions.

Dean looked at Randy who's eyes were narrowed in on him with warning. He knew the lunatic was just testing her out to see if she was a good fit for him, but the man liked to push the limit when it came to subs. Very rarely could one take what Dean dished out. Ambrose simply smirked at him before stalking over to where the ravenette was waiting and proceeded to circle her slowly, taking in every inch of every curve. He stopped before her and licked his lips, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it carelessly onto Randy's desk. Some papers got scrambled in the process but he didn't care.

"Look at me." He ordered.

Isabella obediently glanced up at him. Her eyes stopped on the steadily growing bulge in his pants and she gulped, her mouth salivating. Dean took notice and smirked at the sigh to pass her lips and the way her hands tremble in her lap; like she was forcing them to stay put. Their eyes finally locked and Ambrose tilted his head, silently relishing in how he towered over the helpless girl. "You must be pretty damn special if Orton's keeping you a secret from everyone, huh?" Isabella swallowed thickly.

"She is," Orton spoke up. "That's why I called you specifically. I don't trust anyone else with her." Dean's gaze shifted to the bald man but Isabella's stayed on him, to which he silently praised her for.

"Trust me? Are you nuts?" Ambrose laughed maniacally and grabbed the small girls arm, yanking her up in a flash. She stared at him with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. "Well then, lets see how much you can take." A sadistic grin spread across Dean's face and Isabella had to admit, she was scared but her arousal overpowered her fear. With his eyes still locked on Isabella's he spoke. "Orton, you're welcome to stay and watch the show but if not, the door is right there."

There was a moment of silence before Randy replied. "I'll be right outside the door... which remains unlocked." Isabella cringed inwardly at the sound of Randy's office door shutting and bit her lip at the realization that she was now completely alone with the man she met only ten minutes prior. Dean released her arm and she stepped back, resisting the urge to rub the sore area as she awaited his next move.

In a flash he back handed her, the force enough to send her to the floor. She let out a noise upon impact but it wasn't one of pain but one of lust; a moan. He lifted her up by the nape of her neck before doing it again in the exact same spot, this time forcing his hand down her shorts and into her panties to feel her arousal. The brunette pushed her down the rest of the wait before straddling her waist. "You're soaking." He let out a chuckle. "Little pain slut." He watched her expressions changed as he massaged her clit. Her legs spread wider and she was panting now, letting out little whimpers here and there. The sensation between her thighs mixed with the way Dean's mouth ravished her neck sent her body into overdrive.

"D-dean..uuung, fuck!" She cried, her first ever orgasm hitting her like a head on collision. Isabella gripped Dean's biceps, her blunt nails digging into his flesh, and let out a few shaky breaths as she came down from her high. Dean loved how easily stimulated she was, being a virgin and all. Isabella's blue eyes slowly drifted up to meet his and Dean noticed how they were glazed over with need.

He had her right where he wanted her.

Dean removed his hand without warning, callously relishing in the pained look on her face as she hoped he would continue. He placed three fingers to her lips. "Suck." He ordered. Isabella was eager to accept them into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the digits as she tasted her own juices. Her heart pounded; she knew what this was for. Just because she was a virgin didn't mean Isabella was unaware of how foreplay worked. That made her nervous. Was she really going to give her virginity to a guy she met only fifteen minutes ago? Dean noticed her change in attitude and gently removed his fingers from her mouth, using his other hand to cup her cheek. "Hey, look at me," It took a few seconds but Isabella finally glanced up at Dean. "Stare into my eyes. Do you trust me?" Isabella did as she was told and was surprised to see that sincerity and honest worry in his eyes. She nodded slowly and Dean grinned for the first time, showcasing his prominent dimples which helped in significantly decreasing her anxiety. Ambrose got up off of the girl and pointed towards the couch she was sitting on earlier as he looked in Randy's desk for anything that could act as lube. Isabella scrambled to the sofa, her legs unsteady.

Dean chuckled to himself as he found half a bottle of lotion in one of the desk drawers. He grabbed it and glanced over at the ravenette on the couch, the look in his eyes suddenly switching back to their predatory stare. He stalked over to the girl and placed the lotion on a nearby side-table before utilizing his strength over her and all but throwing Isabella's body to the opposite side of the couch so that she was lying horizontally. She watched as he stripped his shirt off, his toned chest and narrow waist finally coming into view. Dean tossed the article of clothing aside before proceeding to work on undoing his belt but he paused, a better idea coming to mind. "Up and on your knees." He ordered, watching with lust driven avidity as Isabella dropped to the floor before him. He removed his it from the pant loops and grabbed the ravenette's wrists in one hand before securing them tightly behind her back using the belt with the other. Dean tugged on them, making sure they were tight enough, before stepping back to inspect the girl.

He let out a predatory laugh, his eyes narrowing in on her. "You look so beautiful when you're vulnerable... I can do whatever I want to you and there's not a damn thing you can do about it." The brunette man smirked. Isabella let out a whimper of fear and arousal, the spot between her thighs pulsing with desire; she was wet beyond belief. Then there was the realization that she was, in fact, completely and utterly helpless. It scared her - of course, Dean was a very intimidating man - but it turned her on even more. In the midst of her daydream, Isabella failed to notice that Dean had removed the rest of his clothing until he tapped the head of his cock against her lips, smearing the precum across her mouth. She looked up at him, instinctively licking her lips and the taste was sweeter than she expected. Dean let out a low moan and lazily stroked himself, looking her deep in the eyes. "Suck me off, little one."

Isabella wearily eyed his dick. She had never seen one in person but she was pretty sure Dean was above average. How the hell was she supposed to fit that thing in her mouth? She didn't even know what to do with it! Ambrose noticed her hesitance and tilted her chin up. "Don't worry, I'm going to do most of the work. Besides, we have plenty of time to teach you how to suck cock." He winked suggestively before grabbing himself and pushing his cock passed her lips. Isabella opened her mouth wide, desperately trying to emulate oral sex to the best of her abilities. She swirled her tongue around the underbelly of his shaft causing dean to grip onto her hair with both hands and push her head further down, letting out a moan as she gagged on his cock. Dean thrust his hips into her mouth as he helped her bob her head to the rhythm.

"Ahh fuck, baby girl. That's it." He moaned. Isabella looked into his eyes, her belly swirling with glee to know that she was pleasing him. "Who knew you could suck dick this good?" Dean smirked at the blush that crept onto the ravenette's face. He began to pump his hips more aggressively as his climax neared, his cock making an obscene impression against her cheek as the head nudged the back of her throat. Isabella choked a little but let out a small moan that vibrated up Dean's shaft. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so close baby girl. Just a little more." He gripped her hair with both hands, furiously thrusting his cock into her mouth. The warm cavern was dripping with spit and pre-cum and Dean didn't think she could look any more beautiful. He grit his teeth and let out a low, animalistic growl as his cock twitched and spasmed, hot streams of come shooting down Isabella's throat. The girl swallowed as much as she possibly could, though some trickled down the side of her mouth.

Dean let out a breathy sigh, muttering a curse under his breathe as he pulled his softening member from the teen's mouth. The way she licked the come off the side of her mouth with innocence had Dean growling and none too gently throwing Isabella back onto the couch. Her stomach rose and fell rapidly with arousal coated anticipation as he kneeled on the sofa between her legs. A tiny whimper suppressed passed her lips as Dean eyed her pussy before licking his lips, her legs instinctively spreading wider. "I can't wait to taste you, Princess." Dean moaned before diving in between her legs. Isabella moaned loudly as he transitioned between sucking her clit and finger her to thrusting his tongue in and out of her hole as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Within minutes, Isabella felt a tightening in her belly as her second orgasm crept in. The ravenette was moaning unintelligibly, her words scrambled as Dean quickened the flicks of his tongue and thrusts of his fingers. Isabella let out a final shriek of pleasure and gripped Dean's hair as she came. Her vision was hazy and her body trembled as Dean hungrily lapped up her juices. He pulled back, more than eager to finally bury himself in her right heat. Dean had prepped her while he are her out to save time.

He wished he brought some of his toys with him so the girl got a taste of what being Ambrose's sub was really like but, as step one, he would see how she reacted to being choked while fucked. Isabella was still in a post orgasm daze and failed to notice Dean lining his cock up with her entrance. As he pushed the head in, Isabella hissed and gripped onto Dean's biceps. He gave her some time to adjust before slowly pushing inch by inch until he was finally sheathed inside Isabella's tight hole. He began thrusting his hips and the two moaned simultaneously. Dean placed his hand between the teen's thighs to add to the stimulation, his other moving to squeeze her throat tightly. At first, Isabella was frightened as her airway was cut off slightly but the way Dean was pounding into her and massaging her clit, accompanied by the fuzziness she felt all over her body from being choked had her on cloud nine. Her climax approached at a rapid pace and before she knew it, she was cumming - and hard. Stars danced behind her eyes and Dean moaned and increased the pace of his thrusts to be erratic. He sucked on her neck and continued to play with her, determined to pull yet another orgasm out of the girl so they came together.

Isabella whined softly. "P-please, no m-more.." Despite her exaustion and sensitivity, she continued to get turned on.

"Come on," Dean encouraged. "One more time, you can do it." His breathing was uneven and his cock twitched. The brunette man hurriedly pulled out of Isabella and erratically tugged on his cock whilst thrusting his fingers in and out of the girl beneath him, using he's elbow to hold himself up. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" He chanted as hot, sticky come splashed onto Isabella's stomach and breasts. Isabella followed soon after, screaming out before falling limp as she achieved her fourth orgasm. Her legs twitched uncontrollably as multiple emotions washed through her, causing a sob to rack her spent body. Why was she crying? She honestly felt good and tingly but for someone reason she couldn't keep the tears from flowing.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean watched her tremble and cry as he redressed, smirking to himself. The girl most definitely won't be able to walk properly for a while. He called Randy in who was more than happy to re-enter the office. He tried to ignore the noises coming from inside his office but it was futile and left him with a raging hard on that he was forced to conceal until he could take care of it. His eyes widened at the sight of Isabella. She was sobbing, her body trembling, covered in come, her cheek pink from what he assumed to be a slap, and her neck sporting some already nasty looking bruises. He rushed over to the teen and brushed some of her sweaty hair out of her face. Her eyes were glazed over and she didn't react to Randy's touch one bit.

The tattooed man was honestly worried. Maybe it was a mistake leaving Isabella alone with someone as unstable as Dean Ambrose. The brunette was one of the rougher Doms that he knew. Maybe it was going to be too much for Isabella - he'd have to ask her. But first, he needed to talk to Dean.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Randy demanded, his eyes narrowing in on Ambrose as he remained knelt by Isabella's side. The man in questioned smirked, seemingly very pleased with himself as he sauntered over to the couch with his wife-beater in hand. "Well," He drawled. "this is expected when you're forced to cum four times in less than an hour." Randy glanced back down at the girl. She had stopped crying but was still staring off into the distance with what looked to be a blushed out smile gracing her face. "She looks pretty damn happy if you ask me. And doesn't she look just beautiful covered in cum, sweat, and bruises?" Dean grinned bouncing from foot to foot as he admired his work.

Randy had to admit, coming from a secured place of primal lust, Isabella did look quite good. But that wasn't something he was going to confess aloud. Oh no, because then his feelings for her would be set in stone. At least now that his crush went unspoken, Randy allowed himself to believe it was all in his head, that maybe he suffered from a case of lima syndrome. He knew it was utter bullshit but it didn't matter.

Randy sighed before standing up from his spot and moving over to Dean. "So," He began. "what do you think? Are you interested or not?" He crossed his arms in wait as honest contemplation crossed Dean's features.

Was he interested? Of course. So far, Isabella was more than willing to succumb to Dean and his sadistic fantasies, but was he ready? He still wasn't sure if he was over Renee yet and what if Isabella turned out to be the same as her? Dean knew that probably wasn't the case but he had trusted Renee with his heart and soul and look where that got him. Then again, maybe this will be good for him. If things don't work out, he could always bring her back.

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "I'm interested." Randy let out a sigh of relief and nodded, moving to sit behind his desk while Ambrose sat in the chair across from him so they could further discuss things. Isabella had seemingly gone to sleep, the cum on her torso drying.

"I usually wouldn't make you pay for her but since she was supposed to go to Rollins, I need a transaction to be in the system so I can make it look like a mistake." He explained. Dean nodded, already assuming he would have to pay. "Since she is our youngest, is-was a virgin, and is easy on the eyes she will be pricier. You sure you still want to go through with this?" Orton wanted to be completely sure that this is what Dean wanted. He didn't want to send Isabella home with someone that didn't truly want her.

But, despite his worries, Dean nodded. "Yep. I've got enough fuckin' money to last me 3 lifetimes. It'll be nice to buy something I can use everyday and not get sick of." He shrugged. Randy didn't particularly appreciate him talking about the teen like she was some object, not a person, but chose to kept his mouth shut. Instead he nodded and pulled up the transaction application on his laptop.

"$25,000," He said. Dean readjusted his position and took out his wallet, sifting through one of his many credit cards before pulling out a navy blue one.

"Do I get a receipt in case I need to, I don't know, make a return?" Randy saw the grin on Dean's face but something told him the man wasn't kidding, not entirely at least.

"No, this isn't Target." Ambrose laughed and sat back in his chair. "I have documented paper work that I'm going to print and send home with you two. It will have-"

Dean cut Randy off with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. This isn't exactly my first rodeo, man." Orton nodded solemnly before getting up to receive said documents before handing them to Dean. The two men headed over to where Isabella was sleeping. She looked so peaceful and it saddened Randy that this could very well be the last time he would see the girl. Sure, he could probably go visit, but it wasn't appropriate. He let out a small sigh and went to grab the girls scattered clothing. "Aw, does she have to put clothes on?" Dean whined mockingly. Randy glared at him before re-dressing Isabella.

In the midst of getting her clothes put back on, Isabella woke up from her slumber. She blinked away the remnants of sleep, her eyes clearing up to see Randy tying her halter top up. She smiled softly at him before she sat up, wincing at the pain in her lower abdomen. Isabella took a minute to inspect herself. She ached, her wrists were bruised and sore, her cheek stung, and her throat burned. The realization of what she and Dean did brought a blush to her face and she bit her lip.

"Here, let me help you up." Randy offered. He grabbed Isabella's dainty hands in his gently, slowly pulling the girl up into a standing position. Her legs felt unsteady so she gripped onto his forearm to keep herself up right.

Ambrose noticed how she kept sneaking shy glances at him from behind her raven hair and he smirked, moving so he could place and hand on the small of her back. The two looked at each other as Randy moved out of the way with a crest fallen look on his face. "Ready to go?" Dean asked.

Isabella glanced back and forth between Dean and Randy. "What do you mean? Go where?" she asked.

"To Dean's, Isabella." Randy told her, his voice solemn.

"Home with Dean, actually." Ambrose corrected. "You're mine now, Kitten." He smiled and leaned in to capture Isabella's lips in a breath taking kiss. The two pulled apart and turned to Randy. Isabella wiggled out of Dean's grasp and all but limped over to Orton.

"Thank you for taking care of me while I was here. Who knows where I'd be right now if it wasn't for you." Her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes. Randy smiled and lifted his hand up to run his thumb across her cheek.

"Well I'm not done yet." At the look of confusion to cross Isabella's face, Randy said, "I told you I was going to reunite you with your brother and that's exactly what I plan to do." Isabella stared at the tattooed man with remembrance on her face. Tears sprung to her eyes and she all but leaped into Randy's arms, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you.. Thank you so much." She whispered shakily.

Randy nodded and kissed her head before releasing the ravenette. Truthfully, he never wanted to let her go. If Orton could have it his way, he'd make Isabella his own but that wasn't practical... or safe. Its times like these where he really wishes he was never born into a business such as this one. Randy swallowed thickly. "Alright, you should go, get some rest." His hands intertwined with hers.

"Will I see you soon?" Isabella asked as Dean's arm wrapped around her waist. Orton nodded and promised that he would visit her within a week or two. Dean curled his fingers around her side and gently pulled her away from Randy. The two exchanged one last smile before Dean and Isabella exited Randy's office and crept out the back door.

Randy slumped into his desk chair and sighed, running a hand down his face. "Fuck.."

* * *

The car ride was silent as Dean mulled over the events that took place in Randy's office. When he first stepped into Orton's office and saw Isabella, the raw desire to use her however he pleased washed over him. Along with the primal lust he felt, there was also a swirling in his belly that Dean had only felt once before. At first he pegged it as nerves but Dean Ambrose never gets nervous. Isabella was so beautiful and innocent and when things got heated, the ravenette was more than eager to succumb to all of Dean's twisted fantasies.

Dean shook his head. No. He could not allow himself to get attached. Orton was already on the look for her brother and when he was found, Isabella would go home. Dean was just a place holder - a hideout to keep her safe until Randy's search was complete. Then she would be gone and Dean would be alone again. Ambrose sighed as he pulled up to the gates and entered the code. He rolled up to his mansion and parked in front of the garage before killing the engine and hopping out to open the backdoor.

"Isabella," Ambrose mumbled, those thoughts during the car ride still lingering in the back of his mind. He placed his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

Her eyes fluttered open and she pawed at them before sitting up and checking out her surroundings. "Wow," she awed as her eyes landed on Dean's penthouse-looking house. It wasn't exactly a mansion, though it was on the cusp of being one, but it was much much larger than her home. Her home. Isabella swallowed thickly and stepped out of the car, wrapping her arms around herself as a breeze swept by.

"Come on," Dean instructed. "Let me show you around." There was a change in his voice and demeanor that made the air around them fill with uncomfortable tension and Isabella couldn't help but to wonder if he already regretted buying her. It made the ravenette feel scummy and dirty for sleeping with the man. Regardless, she followed Ambrose up to his front door, trailing a few feet behind him.

Ambrose felt it too, that tension, but chose to ignore it for the time being. Sure, he would have to eventually face the problem but for now he was going to utilize Isabella being there. He took her up the stairs and lead her down a long hallway before stopping at a locked door. "This is the play room." He explained as he fished the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, shoving it open.

Isabella watched with hesitation as Dean entered the dark room, his hand drifting across the wallpaper until it landed on the light switch. The young girl couldn't stop herself from gasping as all the toys, restraints, and bondage furniture. She had never seen most of these things before and a great deal of them frightened the hell out of her. A particular wall on the left side of the room caught her attention. There were various sized and shaped dildos and vibrators, some the size of Isabella's forearm. Beside them were whips, riding crops, and paddles. Was Dean going to use these on her? The thought was spine chilling and butterfly inducing all at once.

"Whatta ya think?" Isabella jumped slightly as Dean came up behind her, his breath tickling her ear.

The ravenette swallowed. "I.. I don't know. Are you going to use these on me?" Her heart fluttered with anticipation as Dean circled her and moved over to one of the tables of many toys.

He nodded calmly and shrugged as he gripped a rather intimidating black, ribbed dildo. "Some," The brunette man responded, finally making eye contact with the teen. "Now tell me Isabella, how far are you willing to go to please me?" Dean crossed back over to the ravenette after placing the dildo back in it's respective spot on the table. He hummed softly and crossed his arms as he awaited her response.

"H..How far do you want me to go?" She asked softly, somewhat afraid of the answer.

Dean smirked devilishly and backed Isabella into a table behind her. He placed his hands on either side of the girl and leaned forward so they were at eye level. He could practically hear her heart beating which just spurred him on, his voice dropping. "I want you to wake up in the morning solely to please me. I want you to go to bed every night knowing you pleased me. I want you not being able to sleep, day dreaming throughout the day, thinking up new ways to please me. I want you willing to do whatever it takes to please me. I want you willing to sacrifice your body for my satisfaction..." Ambrose leaned down, his lips brushing against her earlobe. "...even if it kills you."

The sadistic arousal Dean felt as he saw Isabella's pupil's dilate, her lips parting, had the brunette man's cock hardening. He fed off the fear that she felt; it made him feel powerful. A perverted grin stretched across his face as her trembling hands fumbled to undo his belt.

That was all the answer he needed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I have so many ideas for this story and I can't wait to really get things started! Let me know if you have any requests/thoughts/concerns! Thanks for reading xo**

Dean laid on his back with one arm tucked behind his head while the other gingerly held onto a sleeping Isabella. He should have brought her to her room the second the girl showed signs of drowsiness but when she crawled into his bed, hair still damp and in one of his t-shirts, Ambrose couldn't bring himself to kick her out. So, despite his brain yelling at him to bring Isabella to her respective room, Dean's heart called out for him to crawl in beside her.

This brought them to where they were now; wrapped up in one another, Isabella's head and hand rested on Dean's bare chest. He was rigid for a while, not wanting to succumb to the warmth that her body radiated, but eventually he allowed himself to relax into the mattress. So much for distancing himself.

Eventually he fell asleep, the several rounds of sex wearing the man out. He woke not much later and realized Isabella was no longer in bed with him as his right side was cold with the absence of the small girl. He frowned and sat up, sniffing out the delicious scents that seemed to be coming from the lower level. Dean groggily stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen where Isabella was making pasta. He leaned against the door frame and looked at her cook with a small smile on his face. Dean watched her slave away in only her underwear for a few more minutes before sneaking up on the ravenette and wrapping his muscular arms around her waist.

Isabella jumped slightly but melted into Dean's hold as he placed soft kisses to her neck. She tilted her head to the side, allowing him to gently suck on the flesh. "I-I made l-lunch." She stammered out as a tingle ran down her spine.

"Mmm." Dean hummed into her neck with a devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes slipped shut as he momentarily allowed himself to revel in her scent. He pulled back abruptly, silently cursing himself out. He could feel himself yearning for the feel of her body pressed against his and swore under his breath. His finger drummed against his collarbone, something that Dean instinctively did when he was anxious, upset, or furious.

Isabella watched him pace back and forth with a worried look on her face. Dean's entire demeanor switched within seconds, out of the blue, during what Isabella believed to be an enjoyable moment. "Dean, are you okay?"

His pacing stopped though the drumming on his collarbone did not. The man's entire being was being consumed by angst and worry. He could feel that barrier he made himself put up slowly crumble down. He couldn't allow that, not when Randy was going to find her brother and she would leave him. "'M just not feelin' that hungry anymore." He mumbled before turning around, rushing up the stairs, and locking himself in his room where he could think and hopefully talk some sense into himself.

Isabella slumped against the kitchen counter, completely forgetting about the noodles that were now burning on top of the stove. Her eyes stared blankly at the entryway where Dean had made his exit. What just happened? The two seemed to be sharing an intimate, yet not exactly sexual, moment when suddenly Dean jolted back as if he got electrocuted. _Did I do something wrong?_ She had woke up feeling refreshed and was surprisingly in a good mood so she decided to cook Ambrose lunch as a small thank you for taking her in and making her feel so desirable. She thought he would like it, had a really good feeling that he would, but apparently she was wrong.

Warm tears ran down her face as she turned off the stove, emptied the burnt food into the trash, and none too gently threw the pot into the sink. She didn't want to be there anymore. She wanted Roman, he would appreciate her cooking lunch for him. He appreciated everything she did. She thought she could maybe enjoy her time with Dean, maybe even form some type of relationship with him, but that was just stupid of her. She was just a sex slave to him, nothing more. The two knew close to nothing about one another since the majority of their time was spent having sex and the rest they spent separated.

Isabella curled up on the couch and sobbed quietly, her knees clutched to her chest. The leather beneath her head dampened with fallen tears as she wept. The young girl felt so ashamed for willingly giving herself to Dean multiple times. He didn't take advantage of her, at least she didn't think he did, for he constantly made sure she was okay with what they were doing; even going as far as to create a safe word for the girl. But Isabella dumbly allowed herself to believe there were feelings behind the sex, not just lust driven attraction. She must have been wrong to think Dean had any romantic feelings for her, like she did him.

Another stupid mistake. Isabella knew her time with Dean was only temporary and yet she still allowed herself to, more or less, fall for him. Maybe it was some strange, contorted version of Stockholm Syndrome or her dependent mind was looking for anyone to give her emotional comfort and Dean happened to be the closest suitor. She didn't know.

Eventually Isabella cried herself to sleep, her dreams filled with no one other than Dean Ambrose.

* * *

Later that day, Dean's hunger forced him out of his room. He hadn't heard anything from Isabella for quite some time and he worried that she ran away or something. How would he explain that to Orton? As he passed the living room on his way to the kitchen, Dean heard soft whimpers and what sounded like whimpering. He poked his head into the room and saw Isabella curled up on his couch with her eyes reddened and puffy, hinting that she had been crying prior to falling asleep. He approached the couch carefully to get a better look at the girl. She was rolled up in the fetal position, a small frown on her face, her brows furrowed. Dean's hunger was momentarily forgotten as he sat next to her and placed his hand on her arm. He rubbed the limb gently until she began to stir.

Isabella's eyes fluttered open and she pawed at them sleepily. She noticed Dean sitting beside her with his hand rested on her arm and scooted away, sniffling as she felt another round of tears coming on. An awkward silence filled the room; Isabella's eyes trained on the carpet and Dean's on Isabella.

"You were whimpering and mumbling shit in your sleep.. You okay?" Dean asked, rubbing the nape of his neck uncomfortably.

The young girl's eyes finally snapped to his, a look of hurt mixed with anger lingering within them. "Why do you care? After all, I'm just a _sex toy_." The two words were said harshly, the tears in Isabella's eyes finally spilling over.

Dean looked at her inquisitively. "What are you talking about?"

She tried rubbing at her eyes to stop the tears from flowing but it was all in vain. She felt so hurt, so stupid. "I'm nothing but a sex toy to you. I thought I was more than that but I realized I'm not. I actually started to like you. God, how stupid am I? You only want me around to have sex with me.. I just.. I wanna go home! I don't want to be here anymore!" Isabella felt her breath quicken and she suddenly felt light headed. Dean quickly stood from the couch and put his hands on her hips to steady her, only to have them get slapped away. He didn't appreciate the hostility when he was only trying to lend a hand.

"The hell is your problem? I'm just trying to help!" He said, his voice slightly raised. Dean watched her stumble over to the other side of the room as she tried to get as far away from him as possible.

Isabella shook her head. "You only want to help me so I'll have sex with you. That _is_ why you bought me. I should have known. I miss Randy. Randy didn't touch me once the entire time I was with him, Randy wanted to be with me, Randy-"

Ambrose was getting sick of Isabella ranting on; Randy this, Randy that. He could feel himself rapidly losing his cool but at this point, he didn't really care. "Listen, Isabella," He seethed, stepping up to the small girl. His sadistic side enjoyed how she backed into the wall with fear flashing onto her face. "You are mine. As in, I own you. If you don't like that then tough shit. I'm no prince fucking charming and I sure as hell ain't your knight in shining armor. I'm Dean fuckin' Ambrose, that's it. We're not gonna be some happy couple that go on dates and watch cheesy romance films, you're my Sub, I'm your Dom. That's it. So don't get worked up when I don't drop to one knee when you make me lunch, that's what you should be doing anyways." The brunette man hated to talk to Isabella like that but he had to; besides, he was jealous over the fact that she would rather be with Orton than him. But it would be easier to get through the weeks if she hated his guts, parting would be much less painful. He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes and how her drying cheeks became wet again. She let out a broken sob and shoved Dean back before running up the stairs and locking herself in his bedroom.

Dean sighed and sat down on the couch. It physically hurt him to say those things to Isabella. He didn't mean a word of it. But he felt like he had no other choice and now - as he wished he just held the small teen in his arms and told her the truth - Isabella was on the phone with Randy, begging him to come over.

* * *

A series of knocks on the front door shook Dean from his thoughts. Who was there? What the hell did they want? The possibility of it being Seth with his men coming to take Isabella away crossed his mind, but when the ravenette bolted down the stairs and yanked the door open, Dean realized it was definitely someone Isabella was expecting. Was it her brother? The police? Ambrose stood from the couch and exited the living room, stopping just before the stairs where the surprise guest was standing; a tearful Isabella in their arms.

"Orton? The hell are you doing here?" Dean asked, scratching the scruff on his chin. Did Isabella call him over? And if she did, how did the teen manage that? It was then that Dean realized he left his cellphone on the side table in his bedroom; the room Isabella locked herself in. A look of annoyance contorted his features, matching the scowl that was set on Randy' face.

The tattooed man, with Isabella now gripping on to the back of his t-shirt, slowly stalked over to Ambrose. He paused and turned to the ravenette. "Go upstairs, okay? I need to have a little chat with Dean." Isabella nodded, wide eyed, and sneaked a look at the man in question. He looked rather pissed off. Randy waited until the sound of Dean's bedroom door shutting could be heard before turning back to him. "Where do you get off saying those things to Isabella?" He asked, brows furrowed and eyes hard.

Dean rolled his eyes and let out a huff of irritation before turning around and heading back into the living room, making a beeline for the liquor cabinet. He'd need a drink if he was going to let Orton chew him out. He made himself a whiskey on the rocks, taking a large swig before turning to face Randy once again. "I don't know what you're talking about." Dean shrugged apathetically. He swirled the contents of his drink around the glass with a bored expression that ever so often was replaced with a sly smirk.

Randy growled and took a step closer "Cut the shit, Ambrose. Isabella told me how you talked to her."

The brunette man scoffed. "Of course she did." He mumbled. He didn't particularly enjoy acting like a heartless asshole but once again, he felt as if he had no other choice. But he was so conflicted. He wanted to apologize to Isabella, he did, but the wounds Renee left behind had just healed and Dean feared they would re-open if he allowed himself to embrace his feelings for the teen.

"Listen," Randy hissed. "I know exactly what you're doing. But being a jackass to Isabella and making her think you hate her isn't going to solve anything. It's just going to make things harder for the both of you."

"Well if you care about her so much then why don't you take her? Go ahead, take her off my hands!" Dean yelled, his frustration finally bowling over. He knew doing this wouldn't solve anything and the revelation that Isabella thought Dean hated her shattered his already cracked heart.

Orton grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the nearest wall. Dean tried not show his discomfort and instead matched Randy's cold, angry eyes. "You and I both know you don't want that." He snarled.

"And that's the problem!" Dean shouted, pushing randy off him. His fingers began rapidly drumming against his collarbone once again and he chewed on the thumbnail of his free hand whilst pacing back and forth. Randy felt his anger reduce by a bit as he saw the distressed look in Ambrose's eyes.

"What's the problem?" Orton asked. "Wanting Isabella to stay? There's nothing wrong with that." Ambrose stopped pacing and jabbed a finger into Randy's chest.

He poked the bald man's chest again before curling his hand into a fist. "Yes there is." He seethed. "If I show Isabella that I care about her then those feelings will continue to grow and grow and grow and before I know it, BOOM, you'll have found her brother and they'll be reunited and she'll got home and I'll be alone again. It'll be just like Re-"

"Hey, Isabella is nothing like Renee. Do you here me? Nothing!" Randy yelled, pointing a finger in Dean's face.

Randy watched the rigidness of Dean's posture slump as he dropped his head. It was as if all of the anger had left his body and was replaced by genuine sorrow. "I just can't go through that again.." Dean mumbled.

"What?"

"I said I can't go through that again!" He shouted, looking up at Orton with glassy eyes. He felt so god damn weak being on the verge on tears, but all the emotions he's been feeling came rushing to the surface and it took all of Dean's willpower not to break down and scream and cry and throw shit. He was a fucking mess.

Randy moved to sit on the couch, gesturing to the spot beside him. "Sit." He ordered upon noticing Dean's hesitation. The man let out a short sigh before sitting beside him. "Listen to me," He began. "You don't have to go through that again, not with Isabella. Renee hurt you, I get it, and you're still not over it but that doesn't mean you should shut Isabella out. What makes you think she's just going to up and leave and then never speak to you again?"

"I don't know." Ambrose mumbled. "She'll get to go back to her brother, her friends, her normal life.. I'll just be the guy that kept her hidden for the time being."

The tattooed man nodded. "So that's why you were so nasty to her earlier? And why you go from hot to cold?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess, yeah. I thought it'd be easier to part if she hated me."

The two sat in silence for a while. Randy reflected on the things Dean admitted to him. He was much more affected by what happened with Renee than Randy had initially thought. He was afraid of being hurt again. Randy felt for the man. Dean sniffled and cracked his neck, tearing Randy from his thoughts.

"Shit," Dean chuckled dryly. "Feels like I just went through a quick therapy course." Randy laughed and gently nudged the younger man, shaking his head at how uncomfortable Dean got if things were too serious for too long.

"You know what Isabella told me while we were on the phone?" Randy asked rhetorically. "She said she thinks she's falling for you. Seemed pretty sure about it too. Even after only a day, dropped the L word and everything." He let out a sigh and patted Ambrose on the back. "Think about it and if you still want me to, I'll bring Isabella to come stay with me." With that, Orton left, his words deeply resonating with Dean.

 _Isabella loves him?_


	7. Chapter 7

**NSFW! Very graphic sex scene coming up - you've been warned!**

 ***okay, no but seriously. I had myself blushing whilst I wrote this.. hahaha***

Isabella looked up at the door as it creaked open. She expected the person behind the mahogany to be Randy coming to inform her that he would be taking her home with him for the time being. To say she was mildly surprised that Dean's form took place of Orton's was putting it lightly. She thought he hated her, that he didn't want her anymore. The thought made her heart hurt. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as he sat down beside her. The silence that filled the room was incongruous and, despite the complete absent of any sound, deafening. It weighed in on the couple heavily until Dean decided to finally break the ice.

Ambrose rubbed at the nape of his neck, nervous about confessing the truth to Isabella. But, before he could explain the twisted logic behind his actions, he needed to apologize. "I'm, uh.. I'm sorry." Dean silently cursed at himself for not being able to fluently get those two words out. He was never exactly comfortable being sentimental and communicative about his emotions but he knew that if he wanted to fix what he and Isabella began to have, he would have no other choice than to open up to her.

The ravenette glanced up at him for a mere moment before dropping her gaze back to her hands. "S'okay.." She mumbled quietly. In reality it wasn't but Isabella didn't want a repeat of what happened earlier. It was better to just push the fight aside and move on. Well, maybe not in the long run but... Isabella was going to think in the now.

Dean shook his head. "No, it's not.." He sighed before laughing dryly, torn between being sad and being angry. "But just because I can realize that being an asshole to you was wrong, doesn't mean we're gonna start being all lovey dovey with each other. Fuck no, not when you're just gonna leave." His teeth were clenched, his eyes cast downwards. He was being harsh but from what Dean learned throughout is shitty 30 years of life, being harsh was a whole lot easier than being vulnerable.

"When I'm gonna leave? Dean, I'm not going anywhere." Isabella watched with furrowed brows as the unruly-haired man all but shot up from the bed. His fingers tapped rapidly against his collarbone, his teeth gnawing at his lip.

"Bullshit! That's utter fucking bullshit. Do you really expect me to believe that, that once your brother is found you're gonna stay with me? Of course not. You're gonna go back to your cookie-cutter life and forget all this shit, including me." Dean was huffing hard at this point, his efforts not to completely lose it diminishing at a rapid pace. He snarled as Isabella stood up in his face, a mixture of anger and hurt lacing her pretty features. Who the hell did she think she was?

"You think I'm just gonna leave once I'm back with my brother? Even after I let you take my virginity? I trusted you enough to let that happen, so why can't you just trust me?" The ravenette felt her eyes well up with tears. "I know what happened with that girl but I am nothing like her! I would never hurt you, Dean. I don't hurt the people I love." The ravenette's cheeks turned pink with embarrassment but her expression stayed stoic.

Dean shook his head, scoffing and rolling his eyes. "Trust me, you don't love me. You think you do, but if you really got to know me and how fucked in the head I am, you'd run for the hills." A different setting filtered in, mingling with the concoction of animosity and melancholy.

Isabella suppressed the chill that threatened to run down her spine and instead highly said, "That's for me to decide." Her voice held a hint of sternness that was mixed in with the lenity. Her eyes were wide, challenging yet apprehensive, and her cheeks flushed beautifully with nervous anticipation.

Dean's eyes bore into her, looking for any signs of reluctance. When he saw nothing but pure want and need, he grabbed Isabella's wrist and dragged her to the playroom. The couple were silent the entire way and Isabella wondered if subliminally challenging Dean to show her what he's capable of was a good idea or not. But, regardless of the nervous swirling in her gut, the ravenette allowed herself to be pulled into the now lit playroom.

When the two made eye contact again, Isabella saw something in Dean's baby blues change. It was predatory. A hard, lustful look, and it turned Isabella on more than she cared to admit.

He smirked sadistically. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed. Now." Isabella was quick to follow Ambrose's orders and stripped herself of every piece of fabric before laying down on said bed, a shiver running down her spine from a mixture of anticipation and the cold chill of the leather that adorned the replica doctor's office bed. Dean approached the girl before securing both wrists and ankles in thick leather cuffs that were attached to each corner of the bed, giving them a tug to show Isabella that there was no way she could free herself. Her breathing sped up as he moved over to a metal table covered with vibrators, dildos, whips, and the likes. They had yet to use any of these toys and Isabella was quite intimidated by them.

With one last tug on the cuffs securing the ravenette's wrists and ankles to the bed, Ambrose sauntered over to the table adorned with vibrators that were placed in descending order from most to least powerful. He rubbed his chin as his eyes scanned the table and analyzed each toy before settling on a tiny metal vibrator. It was no bigger than Isabella's thumb so she couldn't see it being all that powerful. Dean stripped himself of his shirt before grabbing a roll of black, shiny bondage tape and the tiny vibrator. He walked back over to the bed. Isabella swallowed thickly at he smirk that played on his lips

"You see this?" He asked, twirling the small object between two fingers with a devious glint in his eyes. "It's a clitoral bullet stimulator. Know what it's called a bullet?" Isabella slowly shook her head, warmth pooling between her thighs at the sudden atmosphere change. Dean placed the vibrator directly on her clit, the coolness of the metal causing a shiver to run down Isabella's spine. He proceeded to tape her legs together at the thigh to keep the device in place before leaning over the helpless girl, his mouth beside her ear. "It's cause this baby makes pleasure shoot through your pussy like a bullet."

Isabella let out a soft whimper, her eyes following Dean as he moved back a bit. There was some kind of remote in his hand that she had failed to notice before and the second Dean pressed a button on it, the vibrator turned on and began sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout Isabella's body.

"Nnng, fuck Dean!" She moaned, her back arching off the bed. Her eyes screwed shut as he upped the level to two. A slap knocked the ravenette's head to the side, a tender sting forming in its wake.

Dean roughly grabbed her face, his fingers digging into her chin, pulling her head to look at him. "When we are in my play room you address me as Sir or Master, got it?" Isabella nodded as bliss coursed through her entire being but that wasn't enough for Ambrose. The grip tightened, his blunt nails digging into her jaw. "I said, got it? Answer me or I'll be forced to punish you." As he was talking, Dean upped the vibrator to three. Isabella breathed in sharply.

"Y-yes, ah, s-sir.." She managed to force out.

All of a sudden the vibrator stopped, causing the pleasure Isabella was feeling to cease unexpectedly. Her eyes snapped open in shock and she let out a near silent whine of protest. Dean grinned like a Cheshire Cat, his cock hardening beyond belief at the control be possessed over her. "You don't think I was gonna let you cum that easily, did ya? I mean, what's in it for me?" He walked around the table slowly, his hard eyes on her trembling frame. He was testing her, trying to see how far she would go. If the glazed over look in her eyes was anything to go by, Dean was assuming she'd be willing to go pretty far. Probably further than she ever thought she would.

"Please, Sir.. I'll do anything.." Isabella begged, desperately tugging on the cuffs that bound her.

Dean smirked before pretending to mull over the proposition. "Hmmm... Well, since you've been such a good little girl, I'll make a deal with ya.". Isabella's eyes were wide and eager. Dean loved having her wrapped around his finger. "I'll let you cum if you let me fuck that pretty little cunt of yours." The auburn haired man leaned partially over Isabella's body, slowly palming himself at the thought of being buried inside her.

Isabella nodded her head frantically, way past being embarrassed by her pathetically obvious desires. Ambrose was clearly expecting that type of reply for he began to undo his belt and jeans before she even finished the action. He slipped the belt through the pant loops and looked it over before tightly securing it around Isabella's throat, holding on to one end to create a makeshift leash. He shimmied out of his last reamining articles of clothing and sighed as his aching cock was freed from its confines. Dean was rock hard, and it showed. Isabella's mouth watered helplessly as she eyed his greatly above average girth, tugging on her restraints despite the dull burn she felt around her wrists. She _hated_ not being able to touch him.

"You've been doing so good," Dean said has he pushed a button to make the bed tilt back, causing Isabella to clench her fists as blood rushed to her head. "but there is still one thing you need to know about me before I give you what you want." He looked over - taking note of her disheveled hair, flushed complexion, parted lips that let out quick puffs of breath, the sheen of sweat creating a glow over her tanned body. She looked absolutely ravishing. "I am very into breathe play. Are you willing to give it a shot?"

When Isabella nodded Ambrose took his cock in hand and ran the leaking tip across her lips, inhaling sharply as her tongue darted out to lap up some of the pre cum before she opened wide and allowed him to shove it down her throat. She focused on not triggering her gag reflex for she wanted nothing more in that moment than to please Dean. The man let out a raspy growl-like moan as Isabella deep throated him, her nose hitting his pubic bone with every thrust of his hips. Spit and pre-cum dripped from her mouth then down her face and onto the floor, her eyes watering immensely as Dean rapidly fucked her face.

"Fuck, baby, you're already so good at this..." He praised, letting out a string of curse words as Isabella hummed and swallowed, her throat tightening gloriously around his cock. "but I don't wanna cum just yet." With that he pulled his member from Isabella's mouth, a string of saliva and pre-cum still connecting the two. He stroked himself lazily as he re-positioned the bed before releasing Isabella's ankles from the cuffs and thighs from the bondage tape. He carelessly placed the forgotten vibrator back on the table before crawling onto the bed.

Dean stared down at the girl. Her cheek adorned an angry looking hand print, her lips red and mouth well-fucked. "So beautiful.." He murmured, uncharacteristically tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Isabella smiled with a dazed look in her eyes and leaned up to capture his lips with her own. Her mouth was warm, soft, and inviting. Dean could kiss her forever. He pushed the head of his cock into her entrance, her legs spreading wide in response. He thrust forward, slowly sinking more and more of his girth inside her tight hole causing the couple to simultaneously moan. Isabella's back arched as Dean began to roughly pump his hips.

Ambrose wrapped a hand around Isabella's throat, applying more and more pressure with each thrust. "Tap my wrist twice if you need me to stop." He managed to grunt out, body glistening with sweat. Isabella nodded and curled her fingers around that wrist, her throat beginning to burn with the need to breathe. A euphoric tingle spread throughout her body from the lack of oxygen as a familiar warmth pooled in her nether regions.

Dean was shocked. No girl, not even Renee, could handle him squeezing so tightly. He was sure by now that Isabella could barely breathe, if she could at all. He could see her eyes getting hazy, her grip on his wrist loosening, but he didn't release his hold on her throat. She just looked so... amazing. His hips pumped erratically as he felt a coil in his lower abdomen. Ambrose pulled out and came with a breathy grunt onto Isabella's stomach, her own climax following suit. As he was riding it out he noticed her body go completely limp. Dean instantly stopped, quickly releasing her throat and leaning forward to check her breathing.

 _Nothing_.

Dean cursed and jumped off the bed, moving to placed his mouth over hers. _Fuck_ _fuck_ _fuck_ _fuck_. He went too far this time. "Come on, come on." He urged, continuing to give her mouth to mouth before placing his head on her bare chest. "Come on Isabella, wake up! Wake up, I love you!" He whispered frantically, eyes shut tight.

"You.. You do?"

Dean's head shot up and he stared into her eyes in shock. He made quick work of the cuffs before scooping Isabella into his arms and cradling her against his chest. "Thank God.. I thought you were dead." He whispered into her hair, the wonderful scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils.

Isabella gingerly turned her head towards him, her neck terribly sore. Her jaw hurt like a bitch, her throat was fucked raw, and her wrists and ankles were stinging. But, despite all that, she had never felt better. "Do.. Do y-you really love m-me?" She asked roughly, the usual melodic sound now hoarse and scratchy.

Dean nodded, gently grabbing her face in his hands and frowned as she winced. "Yes... I realize that now." He said, smiling. "I mean.. You were willing to die to prove that you're serious about this..." Ambrose gestured between the two before resting his hand on her hip. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. "..serious about _us."_

"I am.. I know it's too soon but I really do love you." Isabella's face contorted in pain from talking too much, though she covered it up with a genuine smile.

"I love you too," Dean said, standing up with the small girl still in his arms. "now let me take care of you, Princess. It's the least I can do."

The two went into the master bathroom to begin Dean's specialized aftercare process. It included a warm bath with soothing salts added, ointment for her wrists and ankles, an ice cold glass of water for her throat, and best of all - at least in Isabella's opinion - cuddles with Dean in his big, warm bed. The two fell asleep shortly after, a mirrored smile on both of their faces.


	8. Chapter 8

Roman felt like he was going crazy. It had been three days since he last saw or heard from Isabella and he was becoming increasingly worried about her as the minutes passed by. He had called the cops, contacted several local police stations in fact, but they weren't taking his report of the missing girl seriously. They said she was probably a runaway, despite Roman's angered protests that she would never do something like that, and that since she was a legal adult all they could do was put her picture and his contact information in the police station and on their website. Long story short, they weren't going to do shit. Most of these phone calls ended in Roman furiously cursing out the officer for not doing their job and threatening that if something happened to Isabella, her blood will be on their hands and their blood will be on his.

He sighed, stretching out to the best of his ability of Isabella's twin bed. He had taken refugee in there since he realized she was missing, only leaving the room to pee and occasionally eat. He needed to weigh his options. The police were out of the question, just thinking about their apathy towards him made his blood boil, and there was no way in hell he'd find Isabella himself, so there was only one option - an option he really disliked having to resort to. _I have to_ , he thought, _it's the only way I'll find her_.

"CM Punk, what do you want?"

Roman would have chuckled at Punk's blatant rudeness had the situation been different but he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the fact when Isabella was filled with fear and hurt. It felt wrong, selfish. "It's Roman.. Reigns."

Punk mumbled various expletives when he realized who the caller was. "I'm hanging up." He stated, thumb hovering over the end button.

"Wait just hear me out!" Roman objected. There was silence on the other line as Punk impatiently awaited his former ally and friend's plea statement. Once Roman was sure he wasn't going to be hanged up on, at least yet, he continued to speak. "I need your help."

A scoff was heard, followed by some shuffling. Roman assumed Punk was pacing; something he did when he was either anxious or mad. In this case, it was probably the latter. "You've got some balls to call me asking for help, Roman."

"I know, I know. It's just-"

"It's been five years! Five god damn years since you've dropped off the fucking map with no explanation other than a shitty, hand-written letter! After all we've been through as a team! Who the hell do you think you are?" Punk shouted. Roman's ears hurt from how loudly the other man was yelling and he winced.

"I had to, okay? I had to! And I wouldn't expect you to understand, my letter didn't exactly get the point across, but if you knew why I needed to disappear you wouldn't be so pissed at me. I didn't want to, okay? You're my best fucking friend Phil-"

"Don't call me Phil."

"But I had to do it, I had to do it for Isabella!"

 _Silence_. Roman had begun to think that Punk hanged up on him after a minute or so passed by when the other man asked, "How is she?" He couldn't help but wonder. The tattooed man adored that girl, loved her like she was his own sister.

Roman sighed and swallowed thickly. "That's what I need help with... Isabella went missing three days ago."

"Three days?! Did you call the cops?" Punk asked, his voice filled with panic. Despite being mostly off the grid, he still kept up with the news. He heard of the disappearances in the towns surrounding the one Roman and Isabella lived in but he wasn't exactly worried about the girl's safety. But does anyone really expect someone close to them could become another kidnapping case?

"I tried, they don't seem to be much help. Didn't seem to really give a fuck if you ask me.."

"Never have." Punk sighed. After a minute of silence, he spoke up again. "You still got that flip-phone?"

Roman was confused. "The untraceable one from year's back?"

"Bingo."

"Uh, probably somewhere in my closet." Roman said, standing up to search for said phone.

"I need you to go grab it."

Roman's hunt for the phone ceased momentarily as he tried to figure out where Punk was going with this. After a few minutes of digging through old boxes, he finally retrieved the phone, old memories flooding back as he held the device in his hand. "Alright, I got it." Seconds passed and the screen lit up with one new message. Roman opened it to reveal Punk's home address. "What's the point of this, Punk?" Roman asked, exasperated by the fact that he's wasted so much time bickering on the phone with Phil when he could be doing something, anything, to try and find the whereabouts of his sister.

"I'm the most resourceful guy you know. If anyone can find Isabella, it's me." Punk declared smugly. He had state of the art equipment in his bunker that could at least track down the person or people who took Isabella.

For the first time in days, a smile spread across Roman's face. He was finally one step closer to finding his sister. "Thank you." He said.

Punk shook his head. "I'm doing this for Isabella, not you. You're still an asshole." His voice was somewhat playful yet still spoke the truth. He hadn't forgiven Roman - not yet at least.

Roman chuckled. "Yeah, I know. See you soon."

* * *

After a little over an hour of driving, Roman finally arrived at Punk's. The house was small, quaint, but knowing Punk there was more than meets the eye. He was a very private person and didn't want anyone but those he could trust to know any information about him. Passing by, his house looked like any other. But there were secret compartments and a bunker that separated it from all the other houses on the block. Hell, there were probably no other houses within a 50 mile radius like it.

Before Roman's fist even made contact with the front door, it was open and Punk was ushering him inside, securing the series of locks behind them. Roman followed him silently as they made their way to the bunker. It was located in the kitchen, a barely detectable door hidden beneath the island. Phil allowed him to go down the cement stairs first before, once again, securing a series of locks behind himself with keys he always had on his person.

Roman let out a whistle as he inspected all of the grade A equipment. Punk's bunker looked like something out of the CIA, just in a smaller proximity. There were various computers with monitors the size of television screens, nearly every weapon in the book, and devices that Roman had never seen before but was sure held a great purpose. "Nice set up you got here." He praised, turning to look at his old friend.

Punk shrugged despite the half smirk on his face and sat at one of the computers, gesturing to the seat beside him for Roman to take. He pulled up an application, typed in a series of codes, and all of a sudden there was footage of Isabella's kidnapping up on the screen. Roman's heart sunk into his belly as he watched the grainy look of fear on Isabella's face. Punk paused a certain clip, where two pairs of arms extended out of the van to grab the girl. He enhanced the image multiple times, attempting to make out the tattoo on one of the captor's bicep. _Culture, alienation, boredom and despair._

"I know this tattoo.." Punk said, a slight look of shock on his face.

Roman's gaze shifted from the monitor to Punk. "Who's is it?" Roman asked anxiously.

Punk pushed back from the table and ran a hand through his hair. He was staring at the computer screen with furrowed brows before turning to Roman. "I know who took Isabella."

"Who!? Who was it?!" Roman asked frantically, his eyes wide.

"I've worked with this person in the past... _We've_ worked with this person in the past... That was before..." Punk trailed off, still trying to wrap his mind around the odds of this happening.

"Before what?" Roman asked, getting impatient rather quickly. He just wanted to know who took his sister.

"Do you remember Wade Barrett?"

"Yeah, we jobbed with him on occasion." Roman looked back at the image of the tattoo, vaguely remembering a similar one on Barrett's arm in the same location. He gestured to the skin. "Is this his tattoo?" Punk nodded. "So it was Wade that took Isabella?" Roman trailed off, his gaze slowly drifting back to the screen.

Punk sighed and turned to face the other man. "Technically, yes. But he and the others were just doing a retrieval." His teeth gnawed on his bottom lip as the puzzle pieced itself together in his head. How did he not think of this in the first place?

"Retrieval? You mean there are more people behind this?" Roman was confused. Did Barrett have some vendetta against him that he forgot about?

Punk shook his head in disappointment. "Man, you've been out of the game for far too long." He mumbled, sighing once again as Roman shot him a look of confusion. "You remember the last job we did with Barrett?" Roman nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "Not too long after you went M.I.A. I found out that he joined forces with Helmsley and was ordered by his Golden Boy to make sure we died so that we couldn't interfere with their 'plan'." Punk ended the explanation there, allowing Roman to piece things together on his own.

"Golden Boy? You mean..." Roman trailed off, his stomach churning, his blood boiling.

"Seth Rollins is behind this."

Five minutes of silence passed before anything happened. Within seconds, Roman was out of his seat and swearing up a storm. He wanted to punch something, throw something, do anything to unleash the fury he felt inside him. That man... _Seth Rollins_... He considered him a brother when they were younger, someone he would take a bullet for. But something in him changed. He didn't take up missions for the greater good, he did it for the money and the popularity. Then when Hunter Hearst Helmsley, someone he and Roman had bad blood with, recruited him with the promises of power and riches, Seth was more than willing to stab Roman in the back. Roman nearly died because of Seth and now he has his sister.

Punk could see Roman's self restraint start to crumble and decided to intervene before one of his expensive equipment was damaged. "Calm down, Roman. Come on, breathe." He slowly and cautiously ushered the Samoan man back into his seat, knowing better than to be assertive when he was fired up. "Listen, I know you're pissed, I'm pissed too. But now we're one step closer to getting Isabella back, okay?" He was trying to get Roman to see the bright side of their current situation, despite how dim it was, so that burning fury would momentarily be replaced with determination to continue their search for Isabella.

Roman took a deep breath and saved his anger for when he had Rollins face to face. "We need to track Barrett down. If we find him, we find Seth, and if we find Seth we find Isabella." He stated, perseverance written on his face.

Punk grinned, glad that Roman was thinking like his old self. "Well then, let's get down to business shall we?"


	9. Chapter 9

***I sincerely apologize for my hiatus but thank you for not abandoning this story! I was so excited to start writing it and I'm excited for things to get heated up. Although, this story is for you guys. Let me know if I should continue or abandon it. I just feel like this story would be so much better if I was more of a talented writer!***

After that near fateful night in the playroom the couple had been closer than ever. It continued to amaze Dean how Isabella was willing to risk her life to prove her devotion to him - a mile Renee was never willing to go. In those thirty seconds that droned on like minutes where Dean truly believed the ravenette was going to die, or already had, made him come to his senses and realize that he can no longer push her away in fear that she would leave him.

Their relationship was ludicrous, really. How can you love someone that you've only known for a few days so much that you're willing to risk your life to prove it? And how can you love someone that you've only known for a few days so much that you feel like your whole world is crashing down on you when that proof is taken too far? Those series of events were rather crazy but that seems to be the perfect word to describe Dean's entire life so he wasn't going to start complaining now, especially not when he had a beautiful girl to call his.

Isabella let out a sigh of boredom and turned to Dean, her dainty fingers curling around his hand. "Can we go somewhere? I'm sick of being stuck in this house." It's not like Dean's company wasn't satisfactory enough but Isabella would be lying if she said she didn't miss going out to eat or to the movies.

"You know we can't do that. If I get seen with you in public then I'll immediately be the prime suspect in your kidnapping." Dean hated having to keep her locked up in his home but there wasn't much he could do. There's no way in hell Ambrose would risk going back to prison.

The girl's shoulders slumped and she appeared to be in deep thought. Suddenly her eyes grew and she got on her knees to face Dean, a wide grin on her face. "Why don't you throw a party?" She exclaimed excitedly.

Dean looked at her incredulously. "A party?" She nodded. "I don't know.. I'm more of a quiet, run-down bar type of guy."

Isabella pouted and straddled Dean's thighs. "Please?" She asked sensually, dragging out the word. His hands gripped her hips as she placed warm kisses along his neck, her hands slowly running up and down his toned chest.

Ambrose stifled a moan as her hand gripped his half-hard cock. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing." He mumbled, hands trailing down to grip her ass. Her fingers skimmed across his denim trapped length, applying just enough pressure to make Dean feel like he was going to burst out of his jeans. This girl was cruel.

Isabella giggled and gently bit at the skin on his neck. "Is it working?"

Dean could tell that there was a devilish grin on her face as she worked her way up to his jaw, tauntingly close to his lips. "Y'know," He began, voice low with arousal. "I have half a mind to bend you over this couch and punish you for teasing me like this." Dean slapped her ass hard to add emphasis of what was to come if she continued to toy with him and rolled his hips into her, eliciting a moan from the girl.

She pulled back, looking down at him with that same devious smile. Dean couldn't tell what was thinking but it was clear that the gears were turning. In a flash she leaped from the couch. "You'll have to catch me first!" She taunted before running out of the living room and down the hall. Dean smiled to himself before going after her, following her adorable laugh across the house and into his office.

As he entered he could hear Isabella's poorly muffled giggles coming from the closet but chose to prolong his search for the rambunctious girl. " _Isabella_.." He sang, slowly moving around the room. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Isabella placed both hands over her mouth to stifle more giggles, her heart rapidly pounding in her chest. "Hm, maybe she's under the desk.." Dean pondered aloud as he rubbed his scruffy chin. He pulled out the leather desk chair and peeked beneath the desk, looking over towards the closet as he heard movement. Pushing the chair back in, Dean slowly and quietly made his way over to the closet. He was enjoying this game of cat and mouse more than he cared to admit.

In a flash he tugged the doors open and grinned at a crouched Isabella. She let out a surprised yelp and ran underneath Dean's outstretched arm only to be caught around the waist before she even got close to the door. The two collided and fell to the floor with a thud, Dean's body pinning Isabella beneath him. She giggled softly as she stared into his eyes, blushing at the grin on his face and the way he moved one hand from beside her head to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. They stared at one another for some time, the only sounds emitting from their bodies being heavy breaths from the impromptu game of hide-and-go-seek. This was strange for Dean for he had never done such an innocent, playful thing with a significant other. What they just did was something you'd see in a corny chick flick and if you had told Ambrose he was going to be happily chasing a girl around the house like a lovesick puppy he would have said you were fucking insane. Though with Isabella, doing such activities felt right and as he stared into her sparkling blue eyes he felt at home.

"So..." Isabella trailed off, her hands lightly gripping Dean's t-shirt. The man above her looked down inquisitively with a small, seemingly everlasting smile on his face. "Is that a yes for the party?"

Dean laughed and stood up, extending a hand to help Isabella back onto her feet. He sighed somewhat playfully. "Hell, why not?" More laughter could be heard as the ravenette all but leaped into Dean's arms with excitement and kissed nearly every inch  
of his face.

They were so cute it was disgusting... And Dean loved every moment of it.

Roman had been at Punk's for almost a week now, only leaving the small home to retrieve clothing and other necessities. The two friends worked day in and day out trying to find the whereabouts of Seth Rollins, Hunter Helmsley, and Wade Barrett. Those three men had to have been in contact with Isabella or at least know where she was being kept so if one, or all, of them were found then so was she. Punk had enlisted in the help of some old jobbers that he and Roman had gone on a few missions with in the past: Ryback, John Cena, and Dolph Ziggler. It went unknown just how many people they were going to have to deal with so Punk prayed that five was enough. The calls were sent out and within a few hours everyone was spread out in the bunker talking over strategies. Roman felt strange being with these guys again; he had sworn to himself that he would never go on another find-and-rescue mission again for Isabella's sake but now that she was the one missing, things were different.

As he looked around the bunker at the familiar faces of his teammates, Roman realized that something was missing but couldn't put his finger on what it was. Before the others arrived, he and Punk scavenged for their old equipment and hauled the heavy artillery from the attic to the bunker. Looking through the array of weapons, communication devices, and old combat outfits gave Roman a feeling of deja vu. The items brought back memories that were just out of Roman's reach and he couldn't help but wrack his brain for the missing piece to the puzzle.

"Alright," Punk began with a clap of his hands, drawing the attention to himself. "we've been able to conclude who took Isabella and just about when but the motive as to why is still unclear,"

"Do you think Rollins has some type of vendetta against Roman?" Dolph questioned, curiously glancing at Reigns who shook his head.

"I don't think that's the case. We always treated him like a brother, he was the one that betrayed us." His voice was as sharp as a blade and he clenched his fists tightly by his side to control his anger.

The room was silent for a few moments as everyone mulled over other possibilities. Cena opened his mouth as if he were about to say something but closed it abruptly as an odd look graced his masculine features.

Roman turned to him. "What is it? Looks like you wanna say something."

John looked at him and sighed, his eyes quickly scanning the inquisitive faces of his partners. "Well, it's just... You know the recent kidnappings? The last reported case was in Brookesfield which is only a few miles from your place, Roman." He decided to stop there and allow his partners to put the pieces together.

"No way.." Dolph muttered in shock, looking up at Roman who had a whole new look of fury on his face.

A short wave of silence washed over the room as everyone wrapped their heads around the possibility. "I'm not saying that's what happened but since Rollins has been MIA there's a chance he has some tie to the kidnappings, or at least Isabella's." John said in hopes he would ease the tension in the room.

Punk swung his chair back around so he was facing the computer monitor once again, his fingers rapidly typing at the keyboard. Everyone crowded around as he pulled up a manuscript documenting transactions made by Seth from the past six months. He scrolled down the page past various purchases but one in particular caught his eye; a lease on a warehouse only ten miles from them. What was suspicious was that Punk's expensive hacking software found the otherwise secret purchase. For whatever reason, Seth didn't want people knowing he leased this place. Punk found it odd that the seller's name was written in its entirety while the buyer only had their first and last initials documented - assumed by Punk that the seller was under an alias to protect their true identity.

'Wait a second...' Punk thought, scrolling further down. Looking over the financial portion of the manuscript revealed that there were not one but two buyers partnering the lease.

S.R. and H.H.H.

Punk rolled his eyes "Of course Hunter split the payment with Seth; he'd do anything for that little weasel."

"That would explain the anonymity of the purchase; only Hunter has connections like that." Ryback suggested, speaking for the first time since they arrived.

Roman stood up straight and rolled his shoulders to relieve some tension he felt coiling up in the muscles. "Copy that address down. We're gonna pay Seth and Hunter a little visit." They were so close, he could feel it. A rumble ran through his stomach and he placed a hand over his abdomen to silence the noise.

"When was the last time you ate, bro?"

Roman looked at Cena for a moment before gazing off. To tell the truth, Roman hadn't had a full meal since lunch the day Isabella was kidnapped. "I've had some scraps here and there." He shrugged, attempting to play his hunger off like it was nothing for his stomach to garble once again seconds later.

Punk turned the monitor off and stood from the computer before placing a supportive hand on the Samoan's shoulder, giving it a friendly pat. "Come on man, let's get some grub into ya. You'll be useless to us if you're starving." Despite the situation Roman couldn't help but laugh at Punk's brutal honesty and reluctantly nodded because the tattooed man was right; Roman needed to have laser focus and for that to be a possibility his energy levels would have to be at their peak.

"Alright, alright." He nodded, following the guys out of the bunker. "But your cookin'."


End file.
